“A visitor?” Milius asked, thinking of Minerva. “Who?”

“You shall see, child,” Calder said quietly. “For now, as I said before, I would like you to make yourselves as presentable as you can, and then meet back here as soon as you're done.”

Milius wanted to question him further, but knew that his efforts would prove fruitless; Calder’s tone had been calm, but awfully firm. Instead he nodded and strode off toward his room, not looking at anyone else. Sirius followed closely behind, shooting a nasty glance at Ariana, as though furious that she had had the nerve to recover. They parted once they had reached the section of the Cave where their rooms were.

Milius rifled through his belongings. His best attire overall was the red, silver-star-embroidered cloak, but he had already worn it for the Knighting Ceremony. Instead he contented himself with a pale yellow robe with blue horizontal stripes. Almost as soon as he pulled it on, someone rapped against the door and Sirius entered, looking as handsome as ever. His blonde hair was neatly combed, and he was wearing a short, blue tunic that went well with his eyes, and black trousers.

“Who do you think the visitor is?” he asked, throwing himself down on Milius’s bed and placing his sword, Vulcatrix, beside Palpatunde.

“I don't know,” Milius said, pulling a yellow comb through his own hair. “You?”

“I have some guesses.” Sirius shrugged and ran his fingers against the blade of Palpatunde. “What do you think this does, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” Milius said. “Calder and Demus say it's a nasty piece of work, though.”

To his surprise, Sirius stiffened. “You spoke to Demus? When?”

“Earlier today. Why?” Milius asked, feeling uneasy.

“Nothing. So — you know, I still haven't figured out what Vulcatrix does, even though I've been practicing so much with it?”

Milius thought that there was definitely something odd with how quickly Sirius changed the subject, but he didn't get a chance to voice his concerns. Just as he opened his mouth, someone else appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” Milius growled.

Sirius looked around and sprang to his feet, clutching Vulcatrix.

“I came to speak with you,” Ariana Worler said, in an annoyingly pompous manner.

“I don't want your apology,” Milius snarled.

Ariana raised an eyebrow. “Apology? Why would I apologize? I was simply following orders, as we were supposed to do.”

Milius was so greatly infuriated by her statement that in that moment, he would have liked nothing more than to snatch up his sword and put her out of commission for another few days. Yes, a few more days, or maybe even permanently….

“Is that why you came here, Worler?” Sirius said, looking at Ariana with disgust. “To tell us that you're not sorry for trying to kill us?”

“No, I came to tell you that we have no reason to be enemies. I hold no grudge against being attacked, either. You heard the Elders. We are all bound now. We have to move forward together, or we'll —”

“Get out,” Milius said quietly. He was trembling with fury.

“You cannot fault me for following the commands of our —”

“Get out!” Milius spat, launching himself forward and grabbing Palpatunde off the bed. Ariana stumbled, looking frightened at the sight of the blade, and scurried out of sight.

Sirius stared after her for a few seconds, then turned back to Milius, looking incredulous. “Can you believe that bi — Mil? Are you okay?” he said, eyeing Milius uncertainly, for he was still huffing, his face lined with cold fury, his blade trembling in his hands.

The amethyst in its hilt was glowing dimly, growing slightly brighter with every passing second. Sirius noticed this, too, his heart pounding.

“Milius!” he shouted. Milius jumped, looking around.

“What?” he said, confused. “What's going …” His voice trailed away. That faint pulsing in the blade had returned.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, breaking the silence. It was Shakil.

“What do you want?” Sirius barked.

“The Elders want to see us now,” he said shakily. “The visitor's arrived.” He disappeared rather quickly after delivering his message. Sirius turned to look back at Milius, who was still looking dazed.

“We should go.”

“Yeah … yeah …” Milius said vaguely. They left the room and trudged off to the entrance of the Dragoon Cave. Ariana and Shakil were there, standing behind the Elders, who were talking with someone.

Milius’s eyes slowly came back into focus. He looked closely at the man. He was a stout, handsome man with a proud face, carrying a clipboard and wearing brilliantly woven black, gold-laced robes with a large, golden H printed on his chest. A member of the Halgarian Council.

“Ah, here they are!” the man boomed as he caught sight of Milius and Sirius. He studied them closely as they approached, a slight crease forming between his thick, black eyebrows. “These two….”

“Are cousins,” Calder said. “Sirius Andrews and Milius Manchester —”

“Manchester?” the Councilman said sharply, his smile melting. “Manchester?” He stared at Milius for a few seconds, then at the Elders, and it seemed an understanding passed between them. Milius, still feeling somewhat vague, didn't pay much attention to this. The Councilman cleared his throat. “Cousins, eh. We've never had related Knights. Interesting choices, eh …” He peered more closely at their blades. “Demus and Calder. Yes, very interesting.”

“Indeed, Roan,” Aaron said, sneering at Milius.

“Unconventional — I don't think we've ever had one so young — but certainly interesting…. Yes well, I am Councilman Roan, a representative from the Halgarian High Council. I have been assigned a very special task today. You will find out soon enough. But at the moment, may we —?”

“Oh yes,” Demus said, leading them out of the cave. They strode past the dragons, who bowed as they passed, and towards the woods. Milius’s head had cleared by now. He and Sirius exchanged curious looks as they were lead deeper and deeper into the forest, but neither spoke, no one spoke. The only one making a sound was Roan, who was skipping and humming behind them, his clipboard at the ready.

After walking for nearly fifteen minutes, the Elders stopped. They had gone a few paces beyond two stone pillars. Demus tapped his too-short walking stick on the ground twice, but Milius’s attention was on Aaron, who was smiling wickedly. The four Elders backed up, leaving the four Knights looking around.

“You four will be venturing alone, from this point onward,” came Aaron’s cold voice.

Sirius whipped around. “What for?”

“A selection of magical creatures — monsters, as you call them — roam these parts of the woods in quite an abundance. Your task, will be to survive in these woods for the next three days.”

“What?” Sirius, Shakil, Milius, and Ariana said simultaneously.

“But we haven't even started formal training yet!” Ariana said shrilly, looking quite terrified. At a different time, Milius would have been pleased at the sight, but this time he agreed with her. What were the Elders playing at?

“Consider this your first lesson, then,” Aaron said.

“We shall check in on you in three days time,” Calder said. “You will survive only if you work together. Remember that.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Sirius demanded, stepping forward, but he found himself impeded by an invisible barrier.

“What is this?” he growled.

“Calm yourself, my pupil,” Demus said in his slow voice. “You shall need a level head to move forward.”

The four Elders turned and began to make their way back through the path they came, ignoring the spluttering of the Knights behind them. Councilman Roan gave a wide smile and a wink and followed briskly.

Sirius swore. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Maybe we should get rid of that,” Shakil suggested, in a voice quivering with fear. They turned and looked behind them; a large, green, scaly dragon was stalking out of the woods toward them, glaring menacingly at them. It stopped and let out a deafening roar. Milius was quite sure that their shrieks carried off into the rest of the forest, which would surely attract more monsters.